


The Barton Circus

by rememberednoah



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Circus, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Steve, Jealous Steve Rogers, Jealousy, Lions, M/M, Sarcasm, Sweet, Trapeze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberednoah/pseuds/rememberednoah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighteen year old Steve Rogers wishes nothing more than to be a professional trapeze artist. He gets his chance when The Barton Circus, one of the most popular circuses in Northern America, decides to hire him. There he meets a sassy red-head, an asshole that thinks he is more important than he really is, a giant Viking with a gentle elephant and a lion tamer, who changes his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Barton Circus

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [ this](http://theashlynwinchester.tumblr.com/post/99102263830/but-guys-what-about-a-stucky-circus-au-where-bucky) post. Also inspired by my friend [ Vivian](http://vivianackles.tumblr.com/). Possibly, mildly, inspired by the new season of AHS.

Two things you should know. One: This is supposed to take place in like 1919-1935 but I'm not gonna be very accurate with how they talk. They'll talk however my mind makes up. Two: This is pre-serum Steve and he's eighteen while Bucky is twenty-two. 

For what felt like forever, Steve had dreamed of working with the circus. Not only did he want to work with the circus, he wanted to be a trapeze artist. This, of course, was not a very practical dream for a boy who had a pretty bad case of asthma. But Steve was not a quitter and he knew what he wanted and he wasn't going to stop until he got it. So, with much reluctance, his mother had to accept this dream, which to her, was more than far-fetched. 

But, Steve, being the stubborn mule he was, had made it work. Sure, he had nearly killed himself in the process but to him those were just minor bumps. He had trained and worked himself senseless until finally he could do his tricks without feeling like he was about to pass out. His body probably hadn't appreciated that strain at all but he didn't much care. 

He trained and trained until he could do it and then trained until he was good and then great and then amazing. He had only recently accepted that he must be pretty amazing because he had finally gotten a job. He had been hired to work for the infamous Barton Circus. It was not only an honor but also a _privilege_ to work with one of the best circuses in all of Northern America and Steve was more than well aware of this. He was ecstatic and nervous and not at all sure how it would all go but he didn't care. 

Only three short weeks ago, he had turned eighteen and by some miracle The Barton Circus was looking for new trapeze artists. He had gone and done what he thought to be his best act ever and he was hired. It still felt unreal to him that his dream was coming true. His mom had hardly believed it when he had told her the news. She, too, had been overjoyed to know that he had been hired. 

Now, a full three weeks later, he was living with the other members of the incredible Barton Circus. His first show was that very night. He was jittery and nervous and happy, all at once. He knew what he could do and he would do it. He only prayed and hoped it would not go wrong at the last minute. It would be a very bad trick of fate if everything went wrong the very day his life was finally going according to plan. 

He was dressed and ready to go way before it was even time for the show to start. He stepped out of his almost minuscule tent and stared out at his surroundings. Everywhere he looked there were tents and people and large cages for the animals. It was hectic yet excruciatingly organized. Steve was just about to head back into his tent, to hide the fact that he was already fully dressed, when a distinctively female voice called out his name. 

"Steve!" He turned towards the sound and was not surprised to find out who was its owner. It was Natasha, the red-headed beauty who had been one of the few people to have dignified him with their presence. 

"Nat," he said back cheerfully in greeting. He beamed her a grin which she met with a smirk. 

"How's our little new crew member doing? All excited and ready to go?" She threw an arm around his shoulders as if they had known each other forever and gave him another of her knowing looks. 

"Do I really look _that_ excited to be here?" he asked, chuckling nervously. He resisted the urge to scratch the back of his head and met her eyes instead. 

"It's painfully obvious," she said seriously. Then, in a lighter tone, added, "Don't worry. You're not any less excited than we all were when we started working." 

Steve nodded and let a smile take form on his lips. She gave a short laugh and shook his shoulders gently. "Come on. You can stick with me while I get ready. There's still some time before show time." 

He followed the red-head without complaint and she led him through the different tents like a pro. Before she even stopped at hers, she spoke to a few of the others who worked there. The conversations were never long and they were moving before they could even begin to care about asking who Steve was. In between these conversations, she held one with him. She spoke without really caring if he was replying or not. 

It took them about twenty minutes, but finally they were inside her tent. She sat down in front of her dresser with a mirror and started applying makeup as she kept polite conversation. "So, Steve, do you have any friends attending the show tonight?" 

Steve squirmed where he sat and said, "Only my mother is coming. I don't really have many friends." 

She scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him challengingly. "I doubt that." 

Steve didn't say anything back and just let his gaze wander around the tent. It was actually surprisingly tidy. The small bed was made and looked like it had not been slept on. On top of it was what apparently Natasha would wear for the night but even that was delicately placed on top of the mattress. There was some luggage in a corner but it was perfectly packed and closed so he had no clue as to the contents it may have. 

"How long have you been working for the circus?" he asked, unsure of what to say and trying not to let the conversation die. 

"Five years. Clint saw me in a tiny little show and immediately asked me to join him. How could I possibly say no?" she asked without expecting an answer, her eyes momentarily flickering towards him. 

"Clint?" he asked, trying not to sound too naive or confused. He hated being in situations where he felt like he knew less than the other person. It made him feel inferior and unsure of himself. 

"Clint Barton? He _owns_ the circus. If you're here it means he chose _you_ as our new little trapeze artist." She tried to say this in her less condescending tone possible. It still felt like she was judging him or making fun of him for not knowing who Clint was but at least she was _trying_ to be nice. That was more than he could expect from almost everyone else he had met. 

Steve's mouth dried as he realized something else with her words. He looked almost with fear at Natasha. "He was _there_?" 

She laughed and the sound filled the whole tent. When she saw that he was still looking at her with that mildly horrified expression, she only kept laughing. "Of course. He doesn't let anyone join if he hasn't seen them first hand. You can calm down, you already proved yourself to him." 

He relaxed, finally, and gave a silent nod. He couldn't help but silently wonder who Clint Barton had been. Had he actually seen him or had he been hidden in one of the dark corners of where he auditioned? He figured it didn't really matter. He had been hired and he was _there_ and he doubted he was about to be kicked out _now_. 

Steve snapped back to attention when he saw Natasha stride to her bed and strip her clothes as if it were the most casual and _expected_ thing ever. He almost jumped out of his chair, startled, and looked away immediately. He had been raised as a gentleman. Which meant you didn't _stare_ at a woman even if you _could_. 

"Calm down, Steve. I'm just changing," Natasha said as she put on her clothes for the show. She silently finished dressing and Steve made a point of not looking. Natasha shook her head at his foolishness but didn't say anything until she was done dressing.

"You have to relax, Steve. You'll be seeing plenty of naked skin 'round here. You'll get so used to it that it won't even be exciting. Now come on, the show's about to start." She gave his back a pat and then a not so gentle nudge forward. 

Steve didn't say anything and followed after the red-head.

> > >

Steve had done it. For the first time he had performed in front of an audience and it had gone great! He was exhilarated and felt on top of the world. His excitement was such that he didn't even stick around to watch the others perform. He figured he would have more than plenty of chances to see them all in due time. For now, it was enough that he had done his act and had not fallen or missed a single move.

He was grinning ear to ear, like an idiot, as he walked around. Even more people were bustling about and he took it all in like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea where Natasha was but he was surprisingly okay with that. She was probably off doing her own thing and couldn't spend every waking moment with the new guy. 

He kept walking around, his eyes cast up into the almost starless sky. He was feeling good enough that he began to hum a song softly. It was mostly nonsense he was making up on the spot but he just felt ,em>good. He had finally gotten a chance to do what he _wanted_. It wasn't just a relief, it was a joy. He had made it. 

He was just about to make his way back to his tent to change his clothes so he could meet his mother, like they had agreed, when something caught his attention. He paused his movements and listened closely to his surroundings. A few seconds later, he was going to resume his walk when he made out what sounded like heated shouting coming from one of the tents. He followed the sound of it, curious and worried, until he found exactly the tent the screaming was coming from. 

"Why don't you just fuck off?" A female voice shouted to which a male voice replied, "No, you listen to me-"

The words were suddenly cut off and he heard the sound of some sort of struggle going on inside. Without thought, he burst into the tent and found that the man he had heard held the woman by her hair and was hitting her _everywhere_. 

"Let her go!" Steve shouted and launched his 90 pound body towards the much larger man. He was not sure what he was doing, he never was, but he couldn't just stand around and _watch_ or _leave_. Those were simply not options in the mind of Steve Rogers. He either successfully got the man to leave or went down trying to get the man to release her. 

"Fuck off!" shouted the bigger man and shoved Steve off with a strong push. 

Steve was ready to get back to his feet and _fight_ the man but he didn't get a chance. Before he could manage to escalate things to that level, another person stepped into the tent. Which Steve should have felt grateful about because he simply couldn't take down the man, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"What's going on here?" The young man who had stepped into the tent asked gruffly. He fixed his piercing gray-eyed gaze on the larger man and waited for an answer. He crossed his muscled arms over his chest and kept his pointed gaze on the other man. 

"Do I have to call someone or will you do the smart thing and get fucking lost before I break all your teeth?" the gray-eyed young man asked when he understood that the other man was not about to speak. Not a single hint of humor was in his tone when he spoke. He meant his threat and would carry it out if he had to. God only knew how many times he had had to do something like that. Not that he would get tired of teaching men that women weren't to be shoved around and treated as if they were merchandise. 

The other man said nothing and let go of the woman with a strong shove. She whimpered as she collapsed against her bed and stared after the man with tear-streaked cheeks. The man grumbled something nasty under his breath before he shoved past the gray-eyed young man. 

Steve was openly gaping at the young man who had, potentially, saved the day. His baby blue eyes were surprised and frozen on the other. He was in awe, mostly because he wished he could be like that. He wished he had the physical prowess to get men to back down and avoid a fight. There was not only something powerful about that, it was almost enchanting.

"Next time, call for help. We can't have you bruising your pretty little face, alright?" the young man asked, offering a hand for Steve to take. 

Still shocked, Steve nervously reached out and placed his hand on the other's. He tried not to let it show how surprised he was at the warm touch. The young man looked at him almost kindly and gave a nod before tugging slightly so that Steve would get on his own two feet. 

Once he saw the the trapeze artist was well on his feet, he asked "Are you two alright? Do you have any idea how _bad_ things could have gone if I hadn't heard what was going on?" 

The two of them nodded without saying a word. Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other and met the eyes of the young man. "Who are you?"

The young man smirked and said, "Name's Bucky. You'll be seeing a whole lot of me now that you're one of us. Just. . . If you hear anyone's in trouble, look for me. Okay?" 

Steve nodded without hesitation. His movements were all jumpy and jittery because he couldn't stop staring into Bucky's eyes. They were so gray and stormy and focused. He couldn't keep himself from staring at all of him. From his dark hair styled perfectly in an almost envious manner, the little smirk on his sinfully red lips that didn't seem to leave, his muscled chest and arms painfully obvious under the thin white shirt he wore. 

Steve snapped back to attention when he noticed that Bucky was looking at him curiously. He cleared his throat and looked in the direction of the woman. He noticed that she was still on the bed but was now crying, almost whimpering. He felt bad for her, wanted to say something, but didn't know what. He parted his lips to speak but Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't worry about this. I'll talk care of it," Bucky said reassuringly, his eyes surprisingly warm and calming. 

Steve nodded nervously and mumbled, "Alright. . . I should leave. Goodbye, Bucky." 

"See you around, kid," Bucky called out before Steve disappeared from sight.

> > >

It was only when Steve got to his tent that he realized three things. One: His mother had to be waiting for him. Two: He had been called _pretty_ by potentially the most attractive man he had ever laid eyes on. Three: He had been caught staring at this very same man. Steve, knowing these three things, understood that he had to pull his shit together then because if not things would get messy and awkward way too fast.

So, Steve changed clothes and dragged his ass to where he knew his mother had to be impatiently waiting for him. Another thing he had been taught was _not_ to be late. He knew well that his mother loved him and pretty much forgave him for everything but she didn't like waiting. She would do it if she had to and she would not complain, but she did _not_ like it. 

Steve found her in less than three minutes. She stood beside the entrance of the tent where the show was held. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes were absently staring up at the sky. She did not notice his approach until he was right before her. When she saw him, she at once threw her arms around him in a hug. 

"You did so well, Steve! I'm so proud!" she whispered in his ear happily, her arms wrapped tight around him.

He let out the breath he had no idea he had been holding and relaxed in her embrace. He had never been ashamed of being caught hugging his mother. The woman had given him life and put up with all the madness that went on in his head. He loved her and he couldn't care less if others saw it. "Thanks, mother. I'm glad you came."

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed it for the world," she said kindly and then let go of him.

He took a step back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. "How were the others? Did you enjoy the show?"

She paused for a second, her eyes flickering to someone behind him, before she focused back on her son. "Yes, it was _interesting_ , to say the least." 

Steve nodded and turned slightly to look behind him. There he saw that Natasha was talking with a man but her eyes flickered towards him. Steve waved politely and she did the same before she focused back on whoever it was she was talking to. 

"Do you know her?" his mom asked in a conversational tone, her eyes solely on her son. 

"Yes. She's one of the few people who have talked to me." 

His mom nodded, grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. She looked like she might cry but she didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "Take care of yourself. You're going to be on the road by yourself and not everyone is as nice as they seem. Be safe."

"I will," he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

She smiled endearingly at him and gave his arm a gentle pat. "Goodbye, Steve." 

"Goodbye. You take care of yourself too, alright?" he said back, looking at the already retreating figure of his mother. 

She only nodded and gave him a small smile before disappearing into the crowd of people around. 

Steve puffed out a breath and his shoulders slumped. He ran a hand absently through his hair before deciding to head back to his tent. There was nothing else to do and he suddenly felt tired and drained. One last time, his eyes flickered towards Natasha before he began to walk back to his tent.

> > >

It had been a week and already Steve was getting used to how things worked with the people in the circus. People mostly minded their own business and went about with their day however they wished and got ready on their own time and only talked to you if they really wanted to. Steve was beginning not to mind this or take it personally.

It was morning, bright and early, and Steve had gone to buy the newspaper. He was walking around the land where the whole circus was set up, his face hidden behind the pages of the newspaper. He was paying keen attention to one of the news, his feet moving him to wherever they wished. This absentmindedness was what led him to nearly have a heart attack. 

Steve was walking, minding his business, when he suddenly heard what sounded not so much like a growl and more like a small roar. He froze where he stood and his whole body stiffened. Slowly, fearfully, he lowered the newspaper from where it covered his eyes. To his astonishment, and horror, three steps away from him, was a lion. The animal was laying on the grass, looking at him as if considering what could potentially be a tasty meal.

He could feel the scream forming in the back of his throat. He didn't care one bit if he sounded like a quivering little girl when he screamed. All he could think was that there was a lion, free, and right before him, and he was scared shitless. 

He was just about to let the scream out when a hand was placed on his shoulder. "Calm down, calm down. It's fine. You're fine. He won't hurt you. Just, calm down." 

Steve heard the words but all he did was jump out of his skin at the sudden contact. He looked sharply to his right and was even more startled to find Bucky standing there. The young man was looking at him in a way that almost made Steve feel like he was silently saying "You're so adorable being all scared." Steve didn't feel adorable, he felt terrified. 

Bucky, still with a hand on Steve's shoulder, turned towards the lion. "Come on, Captain. Show our little trapeze artist here that you're not going to hurt him."

Bucky made a small motion with his hand and the lion very graciously got up. The animal looked at the two of them almost with boredom and began to walk calmly in the direction of where his cage lay. Bucky grinned happily and gave Steve a pat on the back. "See? Harmless. He wouldn't have hurt you."

Steve was, unsurprisingly, not very reassured by this. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he said, "My name is Steve. Call me Steve." 

"Alright, Stevie. See you around." Bucky gave him a lopsided grin and followed after the lion. 

Steve was left staring, mouth hanging open, as Bucky walked off and joined the lion. He put a hand on the animal and gave him a short pet before he finished leading the animal to its cage. The lion, nonplussed, stepped into the cage and watched, mildly entertained, as Bucky closed the door of the cage. 

Steve, still on edge, walked back to his tent. All the while, he prayed he _never_ had to be in the presence of the lion while it was roaming free. . .unless Bucky was around. He still didn't really _believe_ Bucky when he said the lion was harmless but having the young man there did give Steve _some_ sense of safety. 

Steve was just about to step into his tent when he heard, "Why do you look like you're about to shit your pants?" 

He heard a snort from behind where the voice had come from and he turned on his heel to meet the owners of the voices. He was startled to find that it was Natasha and the man he had seen talking to her on the first night he performed. The other man was smirking slightly, his hands crossed over his chest.

"Are you used to having that _lion_ roaming around freely?" Steve asked, undeterred even though he had no clue who the man with Natasha was. 

"Oh, Captain? Yes, Bucky lets him out all the time. The big guy _mostly_ knows how to behave." 

"Mostly?" Steve tried not to let the words come out like a nervous squeak. 

"Don't worry. He only bit off the finger of one of the guys _once_. Everything's been under control since then," the man said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

Even with just that, Steve knew the guy was being an _ass_ but he couldn't manage to mind _that_ much. "That's reassuring. Nat, who is this?" 

Natasha looked back for a moment and then said, "This is Tony. He. . .pretends he's more important than he really is. You'll get used to it." 

"Right." Steve nodded and glanced back at his tent. 

"Well, we'll leave you to whatever you were doing. . . Seems important. That is. . . Unless you wanted to meet Gala," Tony said absently, giving a wave of his hand and already turning to leave. 

"Gala?" Steve asked Natasha, confused and lost. 

"She's an elephant. Finally _Thor_ decided to join us. He's lucky he lives on the other side of the world and that's why he has the luxury of joining us _late_ ," Natasha said, looking slightly pissed off. 

Steve didn't know what to say to _that_ so he simply nodded and moved like he was going to join the two of them. 

"So, you're gonna come?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Yes," Steve said with a nod and the three of them began to walk. Before they had gotten far, Steve couldn't help himself from asking, "Is Thor _really_ his name?" 

"You question Thor's name but don't question a guy named _Bucky_? Where's the logic in that?" Natasha asked back smartly. 

"Well, Bucky sounds like a nickname. Thor sounds. . . It's just different," Steve said defensibly and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. 

Natasha laughed and ruffled up his hair "You need to relax. You're always so _tense_." 

Steve didn't reply and simply kept on walking. Natasha shrugged and kept leading the way until they were in full view of a _huge_ elephant. Only when he saw the size of the elephant did Steve question his decision to meet the animal. He peered up at the elephant, then down at his skinny self. He could vividly imagine the elephant taking a wrong step and squishing him like a little ant. 

"Hello, earthlings," Thor, who was currently mounted on top of the elephant, called out to them. 

"Drop the act, Thor. We're not here for a show. Just showing the new kid around," Natasha said, squinting up at Thor. 

The man chuckled and waved hello to Steve. "If it would so please you, you can walk up and pet her." 

" _She_ is actually completely harmless. A sweetheart, really," Natasha said and walked up to the elephant. 

Gala looked down at the red-head and waited expectantly to be petted. Natasha reached out and delicately ran a hand from Gala's forehead down to her trunk. The red-head motioned for Steve to join her and he did so reluctantly. 

"Stop being so tense. Here." She reached out and grabbed his hand. He tensed up even more but relaxed when he saw that Natasha placed his hand on Gala and made the same motion she had made with her hand with his. Steve chuckled nervously and met the eyes of the elephant. She seemed to be looking kindly at him and this helped him relax. 

"See? Harmless and a perfect lady," the red-head said and stepped back. 

Steve pet Gala for a while longer before he, too, stepped back but now with a grin. He figured that he trusted Gala more than he trusted Captain. That lion just didn't seem nice at all. . .or approachable. 

"Well, show's over. Nat and I have things to do," Tony said in a tone that spoke of self-importance. 

Steve tried to hold back a smirk and simply nodded. "See you all tonight." 

"You're going to finally watch the show?" Natasha asked, surprised by the blonde's words. 

"Yes, I think I should." He waved farewell and walked off without another word.

> > >

Steve stepped into the large tent where the show was held. He looked for a spot that was mostly out of sight and where he could easily leave when he had to go and do his act. He was standing but he didn't mind. He was content with being able to see the show from beginning to end.

People filled the tent gradually. Progressively there was more and more talking and excited chatter until there was barely any other sound heard. The only thing that cut through the madness was the booming voice of the ringleader. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. . ."

The words of the ringleader faded in Steve's ears. He was focused on watching how the others who were about to begin their act set up and got to their places. The first to perform this night were the acrobats and Steve waited expectantly for them to begin. The people around him spoke in hushed tones and, like him, waited. 

With a flourish, the ringleader motioned towards the acrobats and the show had officially begun. Steve was then reminded of how much he actually enjoyed watching the shows. Ever since he had joined The Barton Circus, he had not seen a single show and he had missed it. It was full of life and color and strangeness and everything he loved. 

Act after act were performed until Natasha showed up. She cartwheeled onto center stage and gave a sharp and exaggerated bow. A wicked grin formed on her lips as silently she stepped closer to where there were some swords set up. Silently she motioned to them and still with a grin, reached out for one of them. That's when Steve saw for the first time as Natasha shoved one of the swords down her throat with expert ease. She did not falter or hesitate and Steve was left staring in wonder. He had seen countless men and women do that very same thing before but it did not fail to amaze him. 

To him, her act was over way too quickly. Before long, she had done all that she was going to do and she gracefully walked off and out of center stage. Different acts followed later, there was magic and poi spinning and the human cannonball (who looked way too happy with his job) and the tightrope. Steve was feeling overjoyed by this point. 

That's when, finally, he saw the shadow of Bucky setting up his act. There were some hoops and fire involved and, of course, the infamous Captain. The lion lay in wait, watching everyone set everything up. All while this was happening, there was a group of people performing the Russian bar. Steve wasn't paying them any attention. 

He waited until, not the ringleader, not Bucky, but the lion, began the act. Captain let out a loud roar and all eyes turned to him. Bucky stood beside the lion, a charming smile on his lips. The ringleader said something about the incredible lion tamer, Bucky, and Captain, the lion, but Steve was not paying attention. He was focused on Bucky who looked like he was having the time of his life. 

Bucky explained what he would do but Steve was focused on his gestures and the way his mouth moved. Captain obediently did whatever Bucky asked of him but not without interjecting a growl or roar here and there. The audience was raving. They were clapping and cheering and Steve could almost feel _love_ emanating from the crowd. 

Bucky took it all in like it was the vital life force he needed to keep him alive. He was ecstatic and electrified and full of energy. Steve was not just impressed, he was fascinated. He had no idea how Bucky had learned to be so at ease with a lion and _teach_ it things but he didn't care. It was stunning and incredible and scary. 

The act ended with Bucky giving an exaggerated bow, Captain roaring loud beside him. 

Steve would have stayed, since they were announcing Thor's and Gala's act, but he had to set up for his own act. He walked out, unnoticed, so he could step in through the back of the huge tent. He was light on his feet and before long he was helping the others set up what was needed for his act. 

He felt very much at ease and didn't even try to hide the smile on his lips. He had made the right choice. The circus? That's where he belonged. He couldn't believe he had not really realized it until _now_. He had known he wanted to work with the circus but hadn't fully grasped how _right_ it was for him. 

Feeling satisfied and happy, Steve waited until it was his turn to begin. He stood on the trapeze, waiting. He could hear the laughing, joyful, crowd. He loved the sound. It felt already like they adored _him_ even though the cheers were directed to someone else. He just felt so much a part of it all. He was there and this was his job and that was his audience. They would watch and love his act just as they had loved the others. He didn't doubt it, not for a second. 

Meanwhile, Bucky stood hidden somewhere in the crowd. He had rushed to put Captain away and was waiting for Steve to start. Bucky had seen all the acts of the trapeze artist. From the very first one, till this one, and he would see the others to come. He was never bored. Most of the other acts were almost always the same but Steve always varied his in one way or other. The basics of it were the same, so, in essence, it was almost the same performance but at the same time, it wasn't. 

Bucky didn't care. He just knew that Steve was _talented_. He watched as Steve started building up a steady swing. Then he just watched, awed, as the skinny eighteen year old began a series of tricks and did them with such ease and just _perfect_ timing that it took everything in him to not have his mouth gaping open. Sure, Bucky had seen other trapeze artists and sure they had been great but they weren't Steve. There was something _impeccable_ about how Steve timed his movements. There was something graceful and beautiful about his every move.

To Bucky, it was over way to soon. Steve caught the trapeze in his hands and there; the act was over. Bucky let out a breath and heard as the applause filled the air around him almost to the point of being deafening. Infected with the joy of those around him, he started to clap excitedly too. 

"Look who has his eyes on skinny little Steve." Bucky recognized the voice as belonging to Natasha instantly. She had walked up to him and he had been so focused on Steve that he hadn't noticed her at all. 

He looked down at her and narrowed his eyes. "If you're implying. . ."

She cut him off with a laugh. "You know what I'm implying and you know I'm right. Don't worry, you'll win him over with that charming smile and if that doesn't do it you'll just fuck-"

Bucky began to speak before he could possibly hear whatever she had to say after that. "It's always good to hear from you, Nat. Goodbye now." 

He gave her an excruciatingly fake smile and walked away. Her laughter trailed after him and he tried not to be infected by it. In the end, he walked out of the tent with a smile on his lips.

> > >

It was exactly one month and two weeks later. Steve had worked out a certain routine to go about in his day. He would wake up, wash up and dress, and buy the newspaper. The next things always happened in varying order depending on the day. He would see Natasha as he walked around outside and they would chat for a bit. Then he would go see Gala and pet her and help Thor feed her. The elephant was always more than happy to see him. Then he would see Bucky who was always followed by either a stray cat or dog and they, too, would talk for a while. Bucky was always in an exceptionally good mood and _always_ , literally _always_ , had that charming smile on his lips. That was always the highlight of Steve's day. The conversations were always brief and they didn't talk about anything _important_ but that didn't bother Steve. He was just happy they talked at all. Finally, late in the afternoon, Steve would get ready for the show and then perform.

Today was no different. Steve was walking, an apple in hand, when he heard a very peculiar, one-sided, conversation. "You may be called Captain but I'm the one who gives the orders around here." 

Steve stopped walking and looked around. He was _sure_ he had just heard that but couldn't see Bucky, or the lion, anywhere. He was about to keep walking when he heard Bucky groan impatiently at the lion. 

"Captain, I'm warning you." 

Steve, curious and just slightly weirded out, followed Bucky's voice. It took him only a minute to find the lion tamer. _How_ he found him was almost comical. 

Bucky stood with his hands on his hips, looking seriously at the lion. Captain lay on the grass, looking at Bucky with an unamused expression. Bucky kept trying to order the lion around but Captain wasn't having any of it. He looked pointedly at Bucky and then smugly looked away. 

Steve was left staring, confused and also trying not to laugh, as Bucky threw his arms up in a motion almost of surrender. "Captain, don't make me do something I don't want to."

"What's going on here?" Steve asked in a soft whisper, deciding to speak. 

Bucky instantly looked back at him and said, slightly agitated, "This guy thinks he can do whatever he pleases."

Captain let out a sound that would translate to "Hell yes, I'll do what I please." Bucky was less than happy with this response from the lion. 

"Should I be worried?" Steve asked, his voice still that gentle whisper. The lion made him nervous and if the lion wasn't listening to Bucky then he felt that there was reason to be scared. 

Bucky shook his head and focused back on the lion. Captain met his gaze and made no attempt to move. That's when a sort of staring contest began between the young man and the lion. Steve watched as the two of them stared at each other, seeming to silently decide who was _really_ in charge. 

Steve was slightly worried that this may lead to a bad ending but he was proven wrong. In the end, Captain got up and walked over to Bucky's side. The young man exclaimed "Ha!" and then turned to look at Steve with a satisfied grin. 

Steve felt his heart lurch in his chest at this look. He cleared his throat and said ,"Well, there you go." 

His voice wavered as he spoke and he looked away nervously. Bucky's grin only got wider and he stepped up to Steve. He ruffled up the hair of the young blonde and said, "Who's captain now?" 

"I'd rather not answer that. Captain may understand and bite my head off," Steve said, attempting a joke to lighten the air around them. Bucky was still standing only one step away from him and there was still a cheerful smile on those very red and very kissable lips and Steve was finding it hard to breathe.

"I'd never let him hurt you, Stevie!" Bucky said with a tender look and ruffled up Steve's hair one more time before he left, the lion trailing right behind.

> > >

Another, more or less, two months had gone past. Steve was now in the huge tent where the shows were held. He had decided to take some time out of his day to practice. He liked to do this at least twice a week. No one really minded or told him he couldn't do it. He was almost certain that other members of the circus did the same. Whenever Steve practiced, all the others seemed to know he was there and didn't bother him. Natasha, and maybe even Bucky, would show up and watch but they would be so quiet that he wouldn't even notice.

Steve, having everything set up, began to practice. These were the moments he tried out different tricks and tried to see what he could incorporate into his act. No one had _asked_ him to do this but he _wanted_ to. Half of the time whatever he tried to do ended up being a failure or just not feeling _right_ but he had to try. 

He was trying out a particularly difficult new trick. The trapeze was swinging and he thought he had calculated correctly his moves but he hadn't. His fingers reached out for the bar, which should have been where he thought it to be, but it slipped from his fingers. He didn't even scream as the trapeze slipped between his fingers and he fell. He only screamed when his body made contact with the ground. He heard a loud crack and reached out for his left arm. The arm, from shoulder to elbow, felt like it was burning. Tears stung his eyes and for a second spots appeared in his vision, blinding him.

Steve was clutching at his shoulder, pain sizzling all through him, when he he heard, "Stevie!" 

He wasn't quite sure what was going on. All he knew was that suddenly crouching by his side was _someone_ and he could see a pair of gray eyes staring at him with worry. "Stevie, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" 

Steve blinked a few times and sat up. This motion made his shoulder hurt even more and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. He tasted blood but didn't care, he focused on who he now recognized as Bucky. 

Bucky reached out to Steve and cupped his cheek in his hand. He searched the baby blues of Steve but they didn't tell him anything. "Where does it hurt? Talk to me, Stevie." 

Steve took a moment to answer for two reasons. One being that he was still in a _lot_ of pain and the other being that Bucky was so close that he could feel the heat emanating from his body. "It's. . . My shoulder and I think my elbow. I don't know. . . I don't know what happened. . . I was supposed to-" 

Bucky shushed him and picked him up in his arms without a word. Steve was about to complain, to say his legs were perfectly functional, but Bucky didn't give him a chance to speak. Bucky carried him out of the tent and led them to the tent of the only person they could call a medic. The medic, a man who didn't look much older than Bucky, didn't even look alarmed when Steve was set on his bed. 

The medic stepped towards Steve and asked, "What happened? Did you fall? Does anything hurt? Does this hurt?" 

Then the medic began to put pressure on certain parts of Steve's shoulder and arm. Steve was chewing his cheek raw at this point. The pain was sharp and he wasn't sure what the hell was going on. He just hoped it would heal. It needed to heal. He _couldn't_ lose his job now. 

Bucky, all the while, was watching with panicked eyes. Each time Steve flinched or shut his eyes tight with pain, he looked at the medic with gray eyes burning with anger. The medic paid him little attention. He just kept asking Steve questions and applying pressure in places that were painful. 

"Is this really necessary?" Bucky asked when, at last, he couldn't take it anymore. 

The medic glared at him and said, "I'm trying to figure out if he can heal from this. I don't want to do anything extreme before fully knowing what I'm dealing with." 

Bucky nodded, grudgingly, and began to pace around the small tent. The medic did _not_ appreciate this but knew that the lion tamer would not leave, no matter what he said. 

Suddenly, the tent was opened and in stepped Natasha. Her eyes fell on Steve immediately and then went to Bucky, who was still pacing. "What happened? Is he alright?" 

The medic didn't respond and mumbled to Steve, "Bite on this. It'll be quick." 

The medic then handed him a strap of leather and Steve bit it obediently and without question. The medic didn't count, one moment his hands were delicately on Steve and the next he did _something_ that made Steve cry out and then suddenly feel relief. 

Bucky was ready to pounce on the medic but when he saw Steve's shoulders slumped with relief, he calmed down. He had planned to say something but Natasha did so before he could. "What he hell did you do to Steve?" 

"Fixed his problem. Sure, his arm is still going to hurt like shit for a while but he'll be good as new soon enough. Hopefully." 

"Hopefully?" Steve asked, eyes wide. 

"Well, you'll have to wait and see how it goes. Your elbow is still pretty fucked up but I can't do anything about that. You certainly can't perform tonight," the medic said with a small shrug. 

Bucky and Natasha glared at him. Steve was just looking like he was on the verge of having a panic attack. "But I'll be okay, won't I? I _need_ to be okay. I can't just. . ." 

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and led him out of the tent. Steve was breathing heavily and was beginning to wheeze and it was freaking Bucky out. He rushed the blonde into his tent and made him sit down on the bed. Steve's wheezing had only gotten worse by this point and Bucky grabbed both hands of the blonde. 

"Look at me, Steve. Look at me." The blonde didn't comply. His eyes were wide and he was panicking and not only was he struggling to breathe, he was pretty sure he was having an asthma attack and that was only making it _worse_ for him to breathe. 

"Steve, look at me. Focus on me. Breathe, Steve. Just breathe," Bucky said and cupped the face of the eighteen year old in his hands. Steve was still panicked but slowly his eyes met the gray ones of Bucky. 

"Breathe," Bucky said to him and Steve found himself nodding. He nodded and tried to steady his breathing. He concentrated on calming down his heart beat and trying to get a steady flow of oxygen into his lungs. 

"That's it. Just breathe and relax. Everything is okay," Bucky said and buried his fingers in Steve's hair, drawing small soothing circles.

Steve slowly pulled his shit together and stopped wheezing. He blinked a few times and took a few deep breaths before he said, "I can't lose this job, Bucky. Not only do I _need_ it, I _want_ it. It's what I love to do."

"You're not going to lose your job, Stevie. You're going to be fine. We just have a crappy excuse for a doctor here. You'll be fine," Bucky whispered, his fingers still drawing circles on Steve's scalp. 

"Bucky, I need to be able to perform. I _have_ to," Steve whispered, still not realizing just how close Bucky was to him. 

"And you will. You just need to give your body a break for a little while. And you also need to stop trying stupid shit that's gonna make you fall again." 

"I wasn't supposed to. . . It was supposed-" 

Bucky cut him off and shook his head. "I don't care. Your fall could have been a _lot_ worse. You could have. . . I don't even want to _think_ about what could have happened. I've seen first hand what _could_ have happened." 

Steve jolted to alertness at these words. "What do you mean?" 

Bucky sighed and looked away for a moment. "Let's just say that we don't _let go_ of trapeze artists around here. They just _can't_ work anymore when they leave." 

Steve's breathing began once more to get labored and Bucky went back to drawing circles on his scalp. "Buck, you're not really helping my confidence here." 

Bucky rolled his eyes and once more cupped Steve's face in his hands. "Just calm down. You're going to be fine." 

"I don't _feel_ fine. I try to lift my arm and it hurts like hell and Buck I _need_ my arms to work properly." 

"And they will."

"How do you know?"

"Because I fucking said so, Steve!" 

The blonde quieted down at this. He stared down at the grass beneath his feet and squirmed uncomfortably where he sat. He could feel his cheeks burning up and he just wanted to hide and maybe lay down for a little while. 

Bucky puffed out a breath and his shoulders slumped. He lifted Steve's chin up with a finger and whispered, "I'm sorry. I just don't want to think about you getting hurt again or hear you talk about not being able to work. You're incredible at what you do, Steve, and I refuse to believe that you won't be able to keep doing it because of this fall." 

Steve nodded, his eyes anywhere but on Bucky. He was finally hyper aware of how close they both were. He was even more aware of the finger right under his chin. He suddenly felt very small and insignificant and weak. He usually didn't let himself think like that for too long but suddenly the feeling was overpowering him. 

"Buck-" he began to say but Bucky shushed him. 

"Rest and you'll feel better. I'll come by later to make sure you're okay," Bucky said and left the tent before Steve could even think about saying anything else. 

And Bucky kept his word. Hours later, he went back to Steve's tent to find him asleep. He didn't bother waking the blonde and simply left. For about a week, the lion tamer did this. He went to check on Steve or walked around until he found him to make sure he was still in one piece. Whenever someone asked Steve when he would be able to perform again, he would step in and answer before Steve had a chance to feel guilty or upset. He had pretty much become not only Steve's care taker but also his defender. Steve constantly complained about this, hating that he was being mothered, but Bucky simply didn't listen. He just hated hearing people question Steve or seeing him when something in his arm clearly caused him pain.

Bucky knew he couldn't keep Steve from trying to practice again. He knew this very well. So he simply made sure to always be there whenever Steve decided he wanted to practice. He never let the blonde see him, knowing it would start an argument. He simply stood out of the blonde's direct line of sight and watched him. Mostly it was watching Steve get frustrated because he was trying hard to practice but suddenly he felt a sudden stab of pain. 

A lot of the time, he heard the eighteen year old cuss and mumble to himself. Half of the time, Steve worked himself until _everything_ in his body hurt. He was used to that sort of pain. It reminded him of when he had first began to learn. Bucky, on the other hand, was not used to this. He had to consciously fight himself to keep from going to Steve and comforting him. 

Bucky settled with bringing Steve a mug of something, either tea or soup or whatever was at hand. It was always when Steve was sitting on the bed in his tent and was rubbing his forehead painfully. Bucky sat beside him and handed him a mug of whatever and Steve would take it gratefully. Then Bucky began to make light conversation and he made a point of _not_ talking about Steve's practices. Bucky mostly asked about Steve's life back when he wasn't in the circus. He asked about his mom and about his dad and whether he had any siblings and if he ever had pets. The questions were endless. They could also range to what brought him comfort and what he hated and what he loved and what he thought of the world and what he wanted to change. 

Steve also asked questions. He asked Bucky about Captain. Asked about the zoo his parents owned. Bucky had explained that that's how he had gotten Captain. He had spent so much time in the zoo with all those wild animals that he was used to them. He didn't find them to be a harm to him. When his parents gave him Captain as a birthday present, he was overjoyed. He trained him and raised him as if he were a pet. Sure, the lion was still very much a _wild_ animal and not always under his control but it had never hurt him. 

Steve had also asked countless questions about Bucky's parents and his siblings. He asked about when Bucky had joined the circus. He asked why and how and how long it had taken him to make friends. 

The conversations went on for what felt like forever. By midnight, they both lay on Steve's tiny bed, still talking. Steve wasn't stupid, he knew Bucky was worried and trying to make sure he was okay, but this he could handle. He could handle the questions and asking questions. More than anything, he was beginning to love that part of the day. The part where it was just him and Bucky and it didn't even seem like they were in the circus anymore. If Steve really let himself, he could imagine that they were in their own apartment, in their room, talking about anything and everything. Steve knew this wasn't true, it was just a fantasy his mind had made up, but he was growing to love it. 

The more time he spent with Bucky, the more he noticed all the things he did that he loved. He loved how Bucky would stare up at the roof of the tent and his eyes would be faraway but his voice was excited and happy. He loved being able to feel Bucky's steady breathing beside him. He loved the feeling of Bucky's stormy eyes on him whenever he was telling a particularly long story. He loved how when Bucky laughed, the whole bed shook and he almost fell to the ground. He loved how when he began to get sleepy, Bucky would begin to tell these absurd stories that were completely fabricated and somehow coherent and amazing. Most of all, he loved how, when he was almost asleep, Bucky began to run his fingers through his hair and murmur "Stevie" over and over until, at last, he fell asleep.

> > >

Steve knew that whatever it was that had been going on between Bucky and him for weeks, the others knew about it, but they didn't care. No one said anything or looked at them strangely or pretty much gave much of a damn. This was for two reasons. One: they knew they were the last people on this earth that could judge. Two: they really couldn't give less of a shit about what Steve and Bucky were doing. It wasn't any of their business and it was affecting any of them in any way and that was good enough for them.

Natasha asked Bucky a few times about it but Bucky always refused to give a direct answer. He just shrugged and either said he didn't know or didn't want to talk about it. Natasha insisted that he should grow a pair and actually make a move but Bucky always hesitated. He always felt like even though Steve was always open and talkative during the night, there was also something about him that was shutting him out. He wasn't sure _what_ it was or _why_ but it always kept him on the fence. 

Steve, by now, was back to performing. He did his show every night but Bucky could tell it caused him pain. He didn't bring it up because he knew that Steve would instantly push him away and he didn't want that. He had already discovered that he could no longer sleep if Steve and he didn't have one of those really long talks at night abut everything and nothing. So, he didn't ask and he tried not to bring up delicate matters. He wanted to but also didn't want to risk what might happen because of it. 

They went on like this for quite a while. To the untrained eye, they seemed perfectly fine and at ease. But there was a tension behind that ease. It kept nagging at Bucky but he just didn't know what to do about it. Steve certainly made no attempt to bring it up and this complicated things. 

The problem was that Steve wasn't sure what was going on. He didn't know what Bucky wanted and it confused him and gave him a headache. Whenever he thought that Bucky may want something _more_ with him, he looked down at himself and shook his head. Why on earth would the lion tamer want to be with a skinny little eighteen year old trapeze artist? The answer was, there couldn't possibly be a chance that he wanted to be with Steve. 

So Steve pretended like he saw no problem with what was going on. He just followed Bucky's lead and they talked and laughed and spent time together but would never kiss or touch or bring up what their relationship might actually be.

This was working out fine for them. . . Until that night. The show for the night was over. All the performances had been done but there were still plenty of people mingling about. Both the people who had attended the show and the performers were outside. The air was full of light chatter and here and there some bursts of laughter.

Steve was feeling especially tired but he saw so many people outside that he decided to stay. It was dark out but there were some torches lit up and things were mostly visible. He used the poor lighting to try and find Bucky. He had already found Natasha and Tony and Thor. He briefly talked to them but his mind was set on finding Bucky. 

He found this to be a really hard feat to accomplish. He walked and walked until, finally, he heard familiar laughter. He followed it, suddenly feeling cheerful, and not long after found Bucky. He stood talking to a man in a mostly secluded area. The two of them were mostly hidden by shadow but the darkness couldn't hide Bucky's laughter. It was _his_ and Steve was sure of it. 

Instinctively, Steve hid so that he, too, would not be too visible. He tried to make out what the two of them were saying but he simply couldn't. He was close enough that he could see the dark shapes of the two of them. All he could make out was Bucky whispering something and the other man laughing. 

Steve could feel his chest tightening and he felt increasingly uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't be trying to eavesdrop, knew it was none of his business who Bucky was talking to and about what, and that it wasn't his business what Bucky did in his private time. . . Still, it hurt Steve. He couldn't help but think back to all the nights the two of them had spent talking and just being _there_ for each other and he wondered if he really did imagine Bucky being even slightly interested in him. Maybe Bucky had just wanted to be his friend and keep him company. Maybe it meant _nothing_ and he had read too much into it. Maybe he was just being a stupid eighteen year old kid. 

The point was, Steve didn't care, he was _hurt_. He stepped out of where he hid and made a point of standing _exactly_ where enough light would hit him and Bucky would see him. Bucky noticed him instantly and he immediately stopped talking to the other man. His whole body stiffened and he looked at Steve more closely. 

"Stevie?" he whispered, surprised and a bit confused. 

Steve didn't say anything. He simply took a shaky breath and jogged away from him. He knew he hadn't really _seen_ anything or _heard_ anything but he still felt stupid and silly and just downright ridiculous. His jog became a steady run and he made it to his tent quicker than he should have. He sat down on his bed and tried to calm down his now ragged breathing. His chest was heaving and he was panting and he was trying not to have an asthma attack and he was also trying _not_ to cry. Crying would only make him feel even more pathetic. 

He was so lost in the drowning pool of his thoughts that he didn't hear his tent flapping open. He didn't know anyone was in his tent until Bucky was kneeling in front of him. 

"Stevie," Bucky said gently, reaching out to run a hand through Steve's hair. 

Steve flinched away from his touch and shook his head. Bucky sighed and whispered, " _Stevie_." 

"Don't talk to me. Don't _touch_ me," Steve whispered angrily and moved away so that Bucky wasn't directly kneeling before him. 

Bucky would not have any of it. He grabbed Steve like he weighed nothing and set him down on the grass so they were face to face. "Stevie, are you _jealous_?" 

Steve only got angrier at the words. Why? Because Bucky sounded like he was about to _laugh_ when he said the words. His tone had that small lilt it took when he was holding back laughter. Normally, Steve would love the sound but not now. Not when Bucky was laughing at _him_. " _Don't_ make fun of me, James."

Bucky knew it was serious when he heard his first name. He straightened and the laughter left his tone and eyes immediately. "Steve, are you going to look at me or are you going to keep staring at the roof of the tent like a bratty child?"

"I'm not a child!" Steve shouted, only accomplishing to sound childish. His own voice infuriated him. He sounded like a petulant child and he loathed it. He hated how pathetic and stupid he sounded. 

Bucky took a deep breath and grabbed Steve's wrists and yanked him forward. The eighteen year old flinched but didn't say anything. "Why are you angry?"

Steve didn't answer the question. "What are we doing, Bucky? What are _you_ doing? You come to my tent and give me food and talk to me all night and then you leave and then the cycle repeats itself all over again every day. What are you doing? What the _fuck_ are you doing? What do you _want_ from me?" 

"I _want_ you to say you love me. I _want_ to kiss you and have you kiss me back. I _want_ you to fucking talk about how you're feeling. I _want_ you to talk about how frustrated you get when you practice and why and how I can help. I want to _help_ , Steve, and I know you don't like feeling like you're being mothered but I'm not trying to mother you. I'm just trying to figure out a way to show you how much I care for you without having you push me away." Surprisingly, Bucky wasn't shouting. His hold on Steve was simply starting to get painful but he was _not_ shouting.

Steve, on the other hand, still felt like shouting but he also felt like hiding under a rock. He couldn't form another coherent word except "Why?" 

"Why?" Bucky asked incredulously and for once looked like he might actually want to smack Steve. Steve held his ground and waited for him to answer. "Because I love you. For fucks sakes. If I had known that making you _jealous_ would have gotten you talking, I would have done it _weeks_ ago. Do you know how hard it is to try and figure out if you wanted _more_ when I kept feeling like you were pushing me away?" 

"Why would you want to be with me? Have you seen me?" Steve said and made a motion to his frail looking body. 

Bucky let out an almost guttural sound and rolled his eyes. He put both hands on Steve's shoulders and took a deep breath. When he felt like he no longer wanted to _punch_ something, he cupped Steve's face in his hands and kissed him, hard, on the lips.

Steve didn't react for a moment. He just stared with wide eyes at Bucky. When he realized that Bucky wasn't going to _stop_ , he closed his eyes and let himself be kissed. Bucky relaxed when he felt Steve's resistance crumble and he consciously made his touch gentler. He buried his fingers in Steve's blonde hair and kissed him slowly. Kissed him like he had all the time in the world. Kissed him like he knew he had won. Kissed him like he knew he wasn't going to be stopped. 

Bucky only pulled away when he heard Steve gasping softly for air. He opened his eyes and just stared at Steve as he took in sharp little breaths, trying to gain control of his body once more. Bucky smiled and couldn't keep himself from brushing his lips ever so gently over Steve's jaw. The blonde took a sharp intake of breath and Bucky chuckled before he pressed a kiss on the spot where Steve's jaw met his neck. 

"Buck," Steve breathed out, his fingers shaking. Bucky nodded and kissed the tip of Steve's nose before taking a step back. 

"There. Is that enough? Does that prove what I _want_? Or do you still need me to articulate every reason why I want to kiss every inch of your body and have you shiver under my fingers as you cry out my name?" 

Steve shook his head and tried to focus on his breathing and _not_ on what Bucky had just said. If he let his thoughts wonder too much on what Bucky had said, then he would never get his breathing under control and would just lose it right then and there. 

Bucky gave him that one of a kind, charming smile and Steve knew he was done for. Steve _knew_ , he just _knew_ , that Bucky would both make him fall apart and put him back together in the best way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this with the blessing of my friend Vivian (who is a hardcore Stucky shipper). I hope you liked it. I still feel nervous as hell about it.


End file.
